Teardrops On My Guitar
by xthegirl-withthebooksx
Summary: Unrequited Hermione/Harry. Eventual Hermione/Ron. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing nor do I profit from this in anyway.**

_He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar,  
The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart.  
- Taylor Swift_

It wasn't long after they won the Quidditch Cup. Harry and Ginny got together, Ron and I were talking again, and the four of us were sitting under the large oak by the lake laughing and enjoying ourselves. At least, the other three were. I just sat there feeling numb, faking laughter, forcing smiles, hoping that Harry wouldn't pick up on it; hoping more that Ginny wouldn't. What is IT? You may ask. My feelings for Harry, that's what IT is.  
I'm in love with my best friend. He's everything that I want; everything I need, but he doesn't know that. He talks about Gin constantly when she's not around and it's so sweet, but I can't help but feel jealous. I love Ginny, she's like the little sister I never got to have. She's got everything, including Harry, and I'm stuck her on my own, pathetically.

_*HP*_

We talk all the time, Harry and I. That's what best friends do, I guess. I laugh at all the little things he says, because not only is he actually funny, but he sits there, clueless to the fact that I'm not noticing anything except for him. He's talking about Ginny, again. About how he loves her so much, and he's scared of what will happen if Voldemort finds out about his relationship with her; about how he's finally got something good in his life and how he one day wants to marry her. I can't help but wonder if he knows that right now my mind is screaming at him – _YOU'RE WRONG!_ – Whether he knows that I love him, and have been imagining our future together for years.

_*HP*_

As Ginny's maid-of-honour it wasn't exactly easy standing through the wedding of her and my first-and-only-love/best-friend, but I had to do it, for Ginny, and more importantly for Harry. If either of them suspected that I didn't wanted to be there, or that I was upset by their marriage, well it wouldn't stop them, but it would cause too many problems. I didn't want problems, I just wanted Harry to be happy, and if being with Ginny made that possible, so be it. As the priest said, "You may now kiss the bride," Harry and Ginny shared a passionate kiss whilst their family and friends applauded before they walked down the aisle. My breath caught as he walked past, flashing that elated smile at her, his eyes sparkling. _'He looks perfect,'_ I thought, _'happy in his self, content with life.'_ As I followed them out on Ron's arm (he was best man obviously) I thought about Ginny; how lucky she was and how I hope she realised the extent of that luckiness, how I hoped she'd hold him tight and give him every ounce of love she contained, because SHE made him happy. You could see that in those beautiful eyes of his.

*HP*

Harry still doesn't know that I lay awake at night, crying and wondering 'what if'. He doesn't know he is the reason I sing along to all the love songs on the radio, without quite understanding why when I'm doing it. It had been a few months after the wedding when I first realised this. We'd spent the entire afternoon relaxing at the Potter's House (as much as it pains me to say that), and I drove home, switched off the light and curled up in bed with a hot mocha. I flipped through the album of photos of the four of us (Harry, Ginny, Ron and myself) delicately tracing Harry's features in each one, before shutting the book as I reached the most recent photo (the four of us at the Potter Wedding) and trying to sleep.

*HG*

I married Ron a year and a half after that night. He'd loved me since our third year, and I loved him too. I'll never love him in the same way I loved Harry, and I was sure he knew that, sure that he understood the reason I cried at night, wasn't because he had hurt me in any way, shape or form, but from the fact that no matter what he did he'd never be able to break my heart. The only person who had enough of my heart to do that was Harry, and he did in a sense. Being with Ron I began to piece my life back together. Harry took up a lot of my time, even when he wasn't around, and Ron, Ron was always there for me to fall comfortably back into.

As my first born came into the world, they were all there; Ron, Ginny, Harry. I looked at my daughter, beautiful as she was and I loved her from the moment I set eyes on her. The teeny tiniest part of me was disappointed that I wasn't able to experience this with Harry. As I looked up at Harry and Ginny I smiled, before turning to Ron as my smile became more genuine. Yes, I love Harry, but I've also grown to love Ron, and he was the one that helped create this being in my arms. Ron was the one who stayed with me, the one who loved me because of and in spite of my flaws and the fact that he had to share my heart. The smile for him was genuine, because he was the one who kept me going, the one who protected me, loved me without question, and gave me more than Harry would ever have been able to. My smile grew even wider as his arms circled me and our baby girl. I reached up quickly and gave him a tender kiss, hoping that I could express just how fully I'd come to love him. Looking back down at my baby girl, I couldn't believe my luck. "We'll call her Rose," I said, "Rose Molly Weasley."

**xxBlacksxxDaughterxx  
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